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Cicada Days
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keep running yoshi
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Lot of loots in Jazzy's treasure chest. Her booty, so on and so forth. A couple of dog eared books, some soft and fuzzy things which Irene grasped at like a claw machine. Cat in the Hat, cute. Headless teddy, uh, formerly cute. A fat little parrot which had one of those solid brick things in it's back that meant it made a sound when hugged. Irene pressed on it's stomach. Ouch. Sounded like a Skrillex or Excision drop, somehow. Maybe this was how brostep-slash-dubstep was made. Irene squeezed on the stomach a few more times, seeking rhythm in vain. She only stopped when she was in danger of toppling over into the chest, having almost crumpled onto herself at the waist.

"Nah, if we were sisters that would make the two of us equal, and we certainly can’t have that."

True! Well not touching on stuff like older sisters who were too damn good for their own good. Would it have killed Asimah to be a mite less popular and talented and stuff like that? Or at least quiet down a little when she had some new flame over? Sheesh. If Irene had to play the less cool one to someone at the very least it could have been Jazzy instead.

"Well!" It was Irene's turn to talk haughty and stand proud. Only she was still digging around in the toy box, once more in danger of falling in. Lessons of the all-too recent past happily ignored. Her voice echoed out, "Don't you know that princesses are nicer and more likely to win the plot than queens? Her name is Princess Celestia, not Queen Celestia." Sage wisdom from Lauren Faust, something something little girls love princesses more. Emphasis on 'little girl', in Irene's case. A skip and a step and Irene was free of the toybox and she was smiling Jazzy's way and pointing a finger and neyner-neyner-neyner:

"So we'll see who gets the last laugh, my queen!" She snickered herself, daring her apparent superior to continue the act.

V6 - Like you imagined when you... were young...
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Oh, it's so sad to think about the good times, you and I... · Memories from the Past